


Long Cool Woman (in a Black Dress)

by searchingwardrobes



Series: Fandom Birthday Playlist [36]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Partial Nudity, Sexual Tension, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 08:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21455332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: Killian’s jaw can’t help but drop when Emma Swan saunters up to his poker table. It’s fine, though. After all, he’s supposed to pretend he’s never seen her before.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Series: Fandom Birthday Playlist [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1239404
Comments: 24
Kudos: 128





	Long Cool Woman (in a Black Dress)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [profdanglais](https://archiveofourown.org/users/profdanglais/gifts).

> This is based on the classic song by The Hollies. It’s a story song, but I didn’t follow the plot of the lyrics exactly. Mainly, I have Emma a fellow agent instead of a singer in the club. It just seemed more like her. And of course, it’s a modern au of bar wench Emma, too. I was also inspired by a line I recently read in a romance novel that I loved: “I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you.

_ Just one look I was a bad mess _

_ Cause that long cool woman had it all _

“What are you boys playing?”

Killian looks up from the green felt table and is embarrassed when his jaw drops at the sight of Emma Swan. Of course, that’s probably for the best. He’s not supposed to know her anyway. 

Across from him, Will, who’s undercover as the dealer in this op, plays it cool. Nevertheless, Killian’s known the man long enough to recognize that miniscule eyebrow twitch. He’ll rag him for this later, he’s sure of it. 

“Seven card stud,” Neal Cassidy, their mark, tells her as his predatory gaze takes her in from head to foot. It makes Killian’s blood boil and his jaw twitch. Not that Emma Swan can’t take care of herself, but that doesn’t mean he has to like her playing the honey trap. 

Emma’s hair is curled perfectly, her lips are blood red, and her nails are perfectly manicured. None of that, Killian knows, is the real her. 

“I’m in,” she purrs, sliding into the seat closest to Cassidy and giving him her own heated look. Cassidy has pulled off art heists all over North America and Europe, but the real prize they’re after is his father, the mob boss and arms dealer. The slimy man has slipped through the fingers of both the FBI and MI6 and caused more war and carnage across the globe than every major terrorist group combined. Actually, every major terrorist group has Robert Gold to thank for their every success. 

Will deals them all in, and Emma bites seductively on her lower lip as she peruses her cards. She keeps leaning over the table, letting everyone there have an ample view of her cleavage. The black number she’s wearing plunges almost to her navel with a slit up one side that reaches her thigh. She keeps crossing and uncrossing her legs, drawing Cassidy’s eye every time. The way his pupils are blown wide, Killian’s fairly certain the man is paying little attention to his cards or the club around him. 

Which is exactly how they wanted it. Cassidy has two weaknesses: cards and blondes. Unfortunately, Killian Jones has a weakness himself: Emma Swan. He really hopes this op isn’t the death of him. 

And he’s not talking about a shoot-out.

***********************************************************

“Thank God that’s over,” Emma groans, leaning against her closed hotel room door. 

“Aye,” he agrees, loosening his tie, “David texted on the ride over and says Cassidy’s already singing like a canary.”

Emma tilts her head and grins at him. “Then I guess you and Will can get back to London soon, huh? From the way you two talk, MI6 is lost without you.”

He chuckles, unable to stop his fingers from going to his ear in a nervous gesture. Getting intel on Gold will be bittersweet, bringing this partnership between the FBI and MI6 to an end. 

_ Bringing this partnership between you and Swan to an end, you mean. _ His traitorous heart corrects. 

Emma’s head falls back against the door of her room, putting her neck on glorious display. A tiny moan falls from her lips as she lifts one leg to massage her foot. 

“Swan, you’re barefoot!” he exclaims.

“Course I am,” she mutters, eyes still closed as she kneads the pad of her foot, “how the hell was I supposed to chase those bastards down in six inch heels?”

“What was Ruby thinking putting in you in shoes like that?”

Emma drops her sore foot and straightens, rolling her stiff shoulders. “She was thinking that Cassidy has a thing for long, leggy blondes.”

“You’re leggy.” He prays she doesn’t hear the light hoarseness in his voice. 

“Yeah,” she easily agrees, “but I’m far from long. I’m only 5’5” Jones.”

“And six inches makes that big a difference?”

She squeezes Killian’s bicep and gives him a teasing smile. “It’s all about perception in this business, right?” She keeps her grip on him as she presses her keycard to the lock. “Come in here for a sec, I need your help.”

She yanks on his arm, but honestly, he could never refuse her. Emma flicks on the lights, tosses the key card on the nearest dresser, then turns her back to him, gathering her blonde waves up with one hand. 

“Unzip me?”

Is she trying to kill him? Of course, in her defense, the back of the dress covers more than the front and the zipper hits the middle of her back. It would be hard to reach without help, and she had Ruby assisting her before the op. He takes a deep breath then reaches out to slide the zipper down, stopping before it reaches the small of her back. Not that he wouldn’t like to keep going.

Emma sighs with relief as the garment loosens. She clutches the dress to her chest, but the way the back gapes open and the straps slip over her shoulders gets to him. She waits until she gets to the bathroom before she drops the dress, but he catches a glimpse of the curve of her breasts in the reflection of the mirror. He has no reason to stay, but for some reason his feet are rooted to the spot. He averts his eyes so she at least won’t think he’s some kind of voyeur. 

Killian hears water running and the familiar sounds of teeth brushing. Emma comes out of the bathroom wearing the tiniest tank top and sleep shorts in existence. She’s running a brush through her hair and watching him with an amused expression.

“So,” she says, tossing the brush aside and gathering her hair on top of her head with a rubber band, “why are you still standing here brooding in my hotel room? And why were you clenching your jaw so hard all night? I was afraid you would break a tooth.”

She’s marched into his personal space, her hands on her hips and a spark in her light green eyes. She’s fresh faced now, and just as beautiful. 

“You know why.” He’s almost shocked that the words have left his mouth. He searches her eyes then shakes his head in frustration before turning to go. He freezes at the door when she speaks again. 

“I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you.”

Killian turns back around, his mouth agape and his eyes wide, just like when she sauntered up to their poker table earlier. Emma’s twisting her hands in front of her and lifting one shoulder in a tiny shrug. Her cheeks are pink, her eyes bright. He strides across the room and grabs her - one hand grasping her waist and sliding under the back of her tank top, the other burying itself in the hair that’s fallen out of her messy bun. He slants his lips over hers, and she’s moaning again, her hands sliding up his chest and grabbing hold of the lapels of his tuxedo. He swallows her moans with the depth of his kisses, and her hands release his coat and slide around his neck. Her breasts press against his chest, and he doesn’t think he can ever get close enough to her to satisfy.

He finally breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to hers. They are both struggling to catch their breath, and he thumbs her wet and swollen lips. 

“I love you, too.”

_ I’ve gotta be forgiven if I wanna spend my living _

_ With a long cool woman in a black dress _


End file.
